


Enough

by hopefully



Category: Wang-eui Namja | The King and the Clown (2005)
Genre: Drama, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefully/pseuds/hopefully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gonggil thinks Jangsaeng could use a little company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

There’s no use trying to deny it – Gonggil has been rather besotted with Jangsaeng for quite some time now.

He’s thought of looking back in his catalog of memories to pinpoint the exact moment it began, but realizes that, since it’s been so long and the feeling doesn’t show signs of letting up at any point in the foreseeable future, the start of his affection is irrelevant, and deems its determination a futile exercise.

It’s nights like this he wishes it wasn’t so, nights after long days of performing. The crowds they attract in Seoul have more money in their pockets to offer up in adulation, but demand in return routines more daring and provocative than what they’re accustomed to performing. The resultant pressure is an exhilarating yet exhausting thrill.

They’re seated around a table, one of the largest offered at the local inn and tavern that they still manage to make feel cramped and inadequate, commiserating over the meager amounts of food and _soju_ the day’s earnings were able to buy. Discussions of perfecting the new routine – a raunchy bit involving the king and his infamous consort – quickly turn to the subject of what to purchase with the extra earnings that are sure to come in. Most responses involve more food and more alcohol, with the added afterthought of a night’s stay at an inn not overcrowded or infested with mice, and Gonggil offers smiles and nods in agreement.

Soon, though, his platitudes turn to silence as Six Dix suggests that Jangsaeng put his cut of the winnings toward a more private form of comfort, insisting that a man such as himself ought to have someone to keep him company, if only for the night, and giving names of women who are pretty and cheap and eager to please. Gonggil downs the remainder of the  _soju_ in his cup, hoping to put down the flush in his cheeks to too much drink. He suddenly feels Jangsaeng’s gaze fall on him, but does not look up, for fear of crumbling right then and there, exposed. Someone asks for the carafe and he absently obliges, suppressing the urge to drink away the familiar ache in his chest.

Later, once the plates have been cleared and cups emptied to their last drops, Gonggil finds himself sitting beside Jangsaeng on the ground outside the tavern. The older is leaned back, hands intertwined by the fingers and pillowed under his head. Gonggil sits cross-legged, his own hands lying idly in his lap. The air between them is still and heavy with hints of early summer humidity, and companionable silence perches lightly upon it. Until.

“He’s right, you know.” Despite himself, Gonggil’s voice is low and even. Jangsaeng turns to cast his anticipatory gaze upon him once more. “Once we master the new routine, we’ll be rich,” with considerable effort, he manages to keep his eyes focused on the ground before him. “You ought to take Six Dix’s advice. You deserve a little company.”

What follows is a silence heavier than that which hung between them prior, hazy and unreadable, and Gonggil begins to anxiously regret his decision to speak.

“All right,” Jangsaeng voices abruptly. Gonggil turns to examine his face and finds that his gaze is now the one facing forward. “So I buy a night with a woman.” He turns, and their eyes lock. “And then what?” Gonggil gives no answer, and in the wake of his reticence, Jangsaeng continues. “If I’m with her, I can’t also be here, practicing routines.” His voice is subdued, frayed at the edges, a far cry from the clarion tones he employs in performances. “Nor, surely, can I be here, talking with you, as I am now.”

A soft grin takes Jangsaeng’s face, illuminating his face like the soft glow of the street lamps. Gonggil feels his cheeks flush anew and turns away, his heart rattling violently in his chest.

“I’ve no need for it, Gonggil,” his voice rings clearer now, more confident, assured. “This,” he doesn’t need to gesture, “is all the company I need.”

The pounding of Gonggil’s heart is replaced, not by dull ache but glowing warmth that spreads through his chest. He belatedly places the emotion: relief.

The discussion more or less ends there. He forsakes the words he longs to say in favor of extending the thoughtful, relaxed silence that has returned to occupy the space between them, though they remain buzzing, swimming in his mind like minnows in a pond.

He’ll say them, someday. But for now, this is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction here on AO3 and also the first fic I've written for this wonderful, little-known film called The King and the Clown. There is a tragic dearth of fanfiction for this film, and since I loved it so much I wanted to give fellow fans something to read. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.


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